Broken Wings on Paper Cranes
by Chrome Hearts
Summary: Estelle had to leave. Lysander would give anything to see her stay.
1. The Bucket List

_The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye.  
The story of love is hello and goodbye.  
Until we meet again ..._

A quiet sigh escapes Lysander's parted lips as he stands, back against the smooth concrete wall of the train station. The platform is full of life, people hurrying about, briefcases in hands as they glance upwards at the clock displayed on the wall, and next to it, the estimated arrival of the train.

Lysander's lips twist into a frown and he shakes his head, his silvery hair obscuring his vision. He wished that people would slow down – enjoy life for what it was. Live a little. Take things as they come, not rush about with their gaze fixed on the ground below. They missed the beauty of life that way. All the little things that could make you smile.

With a quick flick of Lysander's head, his silvery hair was pushed from his eyes. Allowing his shoulders to slump, Lysander smoothed out his waistcoat and started up the platform observing the people around him.

At the very top of a platform sat a girl in a simple cotton sun dress, a plastic umbrella clutched tightly in her hands. Peering up at the sky, Lysander let out a quiet laugh; there wasn't a cloud in sight. The girl certainly was a piece of work. The way she clutched onto the umbrella, turning it over and over in her hands as though her life depended on it.

The loud whistle of the train caught his attention and Lysander glanced up; it was just pulling into the station now – the platform's occupants pushing and shoving to try and align themselves with the automatic doors. Making his way to the edge of the platform, another quiet sigh escaped Lysander's lips and he found himself at the back of a large cluster of people, all bouncing impatiently on their toes, necks craned in an attempt to locate an empty seat.

Finally, Lysander made his way into the train, managing to find himself a chair next to the window. Placing his satchel on the empty seat next to him, he gazed out of the window as the train began to move; the cityscape around him speeding by. A small throat cleared from next to him and Lysander glanced away from the window, finding himself staring at the girl in the cotton sundress; the umbrella she was clutching was gone – she must have been holding it for somebody. She gestured down at the seat next to him which was occupied with his bag.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but do you mind?"

Lysander shook his head and quickly slid his satchel from the seat and onto his lap. Gratefully, the girl took a seat next to him and the two exchanged not another word. The train ride had lasted just over an hour and a quarter, and much of the carriage's occupants had emptied. Yet, Lysander remained, his gaze fixed out the window; and the girl, silent, beside him.

Something touched his shoulder lightly and Lysander broke his gaze away from the passing countryside. From next to him, the girl had fallen asleep, her head resting gently against him. A small smile crept across Lysander's face as her brushed her fringe lightly from her eyes and was about to turn his attention back to the countryside when something in the girls hands caught his attention.

A piece of paper, or at least, what was left of it – she had been twisting it over and over in her hands for much of the train ride until it became a somewhat distorted form. Her grip on it had loosened considerably in her unconscious state, and it was threatening to fall through her fingertips.

Without thinking, Lysander reached for the paper, untwisting it carefully and smoothing out the creased surface. Glancing over it, he sighed thoughtfully.

_Go to an amusement park.  
Watch the sun set atop a Ferris Wheel.  
_ _Make friends with a complete stranger._

Lysander's brows knitted together as he continued down the page.

_Have someone make me a home-cooked meal._  
_Make someone smile.  
_ _Surprise someone._  
_Fall in love. _

Lysander's eyes widened in realisation at what he was reading: It was a bucket list. How strange. Taking out a pen, he held the creased paper to the window of the train, writing down his phone number and a promise.

"I'll help you with your list," he murmured to nobody, tucking his pen into the picket of his coat.

Quickly, he folded in the corners; tucking them over, then under, then over once more until a small paper crane rested in the palm of his hand. It looked batted and far from elegant, but it would certainly make the girl smile when she saw it. Yes, Lysander thought, what a nice way to wake up.

Peering out of the window once more, he realised that he was getting closer and closer to the small country station in the town where his parents lived. Placing a hand on the sleeping girl's shoulder, Lysander got to his feet, ensuring that she maintained her balance as he did so.

A small smile crossed his face as he turned his back to the girl; the countryside slowed down around him as the train came to a stop – the automatic doors sliding forward. Shooting one last glance at the girl, Lysander stepped off the train, taking his phone from his pocket and turning it over in the palm of his hand. He didn't expect the girl to ever text him. But if she did, he would do exactly as he promised; he would help her with her list.


	2. Moonlight Memoirs

He hadn't expected her to text. Not exactly. But somewhere deep down there was a small glimmer of hope - a small yearning that she would. And when she did … It had been interesting, to say the very least. The two arranged a time and place to meet, without so much as knowing each others name. And when the day eventually came, Lysander found his legs walking him towards the train station with a bounce in his step. The thought alone of meeting this girl for the second time around in order to help her out with her life's ambitions was enough to brighten the gloomy day - for Lysander at least.

Lysander shook his head, his lips curled upwards into a lopsided smile. Running his thumb across the smooth screen of his mobile phone, he allowed a small chuckle to escape. Wrapping the jade scarf tightly around his neck to ward off the cold, he took in his surroundings; the snow-topped trees and the lake, coated in a frosty glaze that glittered in the pale sunlight. This was the correct meeting place, he decided at a glance. But the girl from the train hadn't gotten there yet.

Twisting his brows into a frown, Lysander exhaled, his breath crystallising in front of his eyes; the morning air crisp. He knew what she looked like, but she had no idea who he was. Narrowing his mismatched eyes, Lysander glanced across the lake. There sat a familiar figure, her fur muffler shielding the lower half of her face from the wind; her jacket flaring out as a dress would, buttoned neatly around the chest. She was sitting on a small wooden bench a short way away, her gloved hands tearing small chunks of bread apart for scavenging ducks who bustled about her ankles. Lysander paused for a moment, watching her laugh happily as the greedy animals fought one another for the biggest chunks before he allowed his shoulders to slump. Straightening out his winter coat, Lysander began the short walk around the outskirts of the lake before taking a seat on the small bench beside the -now startled- girl.

"I am glad to see that you have made it to the meeting spot safely," he said with a nod. The girl stared up at him for a few moments before looking away, adjusting a gloved finger. "I'm Lysander."

"Estelle. Will you really help me with my list?" she asked, her voice no more than a murmur. Lysander nodded once more, a small smile playing across his face.

"I will."

Estelle exhaled loudly and shook her head. "Thank you," she said. "But even with your help, my list won't be completed in time."

At this, Lysander raised his brows in confusion. "Why do you need to get it done so quickly?" he asked. "Take your time with it - you'll enjoy it more that way."

Lifted her head, Estelle offered him a sweet smile. "I guess I just want to finish as much of the list as I can."

Lysander watched the girl for a few moments before shaking his head.

"I told you I'd help you with the list," he said gently. "And that's what I'll do. We'll get them finished. It may take a while, but we will. Promise."

* * *

Over the next few days, Lysander and Estelle met at the same spot next to the lake to discuss which goal ("objective," Estelle would interject, wagging her finger at Lysander whenever he would call it as such. "It's an objective!") Estelle would prefer to complete first. After much deliberation, the pair settled on going to the theme park; it was a lot less crowded during the winter months, and the thought of avoiding shoving, restless crowds in sweltering heat was more than appealing.

The day was coming to a close, the sky darkening gradually. The sun dipped behind cloud after cloud in its decent, casting the world below into puddles of shadow. Lysander and Estelle made their way through the carnival grounds; Estelle, with a large stuffed bunny nestled closely to her chest. Lysander had won a carnival game no more than an hour ago and has asked her which stuffed animal she would like. Estelle, unable to contain her excitement chose the rabbit and it hadn't left her arms since.

Hugging it tightly to her chest, Estelle glanced up at Lysander who smiled in response. "It's getting close to sunset. Would you like to go on the ferris wheel now, Elly?"

Estelle grinned in response, nodding her head, and the two walked side by side, laughing happily as they went. Reaching the ferris wheel, Estelle's brows furrowed and she took an involuntary step backwards. Noticing something was wrong, Lysander turned quickly. "

Something wrong?" he asked, concerned.

Estella hesitated for a brief moment before responding: "I didn't think it would be so high."

At this, Lysander chuckled quietly. "Well, it has to be if you want to see the sun set!" Again, Estelle hesitated before shaking her head. "I … I'm not the best with heights," she finished and looked away, afraid of what her newly found friend would think of her. "Let's just … Let's take this off the list."

Turning away from the ferris wheel, Estella felt something warm wrap around her hand and she glanced over her shoulder in confusion. Lysander stood in front of her, a warm smile on his face; his hand holding tightly onto hers.

"You can only take it off your list if you go on it," he encouraged. "Come on - the sun's about to set! I'll hold your hand if you're scared."

With her free hand, Estelle gave the plush bunny a tight squeeze before sighing. Slowly, she turned to face Lysander.

"Thank you," she breathed.

* * *

It had been a good three months of the two frequently meeting to complete objectives that Estelle had written down on her crumpled list. And slowly, very slowly, more and more of the things had been accomplished and crossed out with a fine point pen. Of course there had been instances, quite a few at that, where the two had planned to meet up and Estelle had cancelled.

"I have appointments," she would say and leave it at that. "I'm sorry."

Lysander was always disappointed at the cancellations; they would leave his days feeling empty. Boring. But he never questioned her.

It was mid spring when he invited Estelle over to his home for the first time. He was bubbling with excitement at the thought of the two cooking dinner together. When she arrived, he welcomed her and showed her around. Asking to see the list, Lysander scanned over the contents and felt a sudden pain in his chest. The list was dwindling rapidly. Would Estelle still want to see him after the list was complete? Chuckling quietly to himself, he shook his head, passing the list back to Estelle and, moving to the pantry, began fetching ingredients for their meal. Of _course _she would still want to see him.

"What's so funny?" Estelle asked, her lips tugging upwards into a small smile as she observed him. Lysander shrugged lightly.

"It's nothing," he said smoothly, changing the subject as quickly as he could. "Why is a home cooked meal on your list?" he asked. Clicking her tongue, Estelle pulled a face.

"It's not something I've had for a while."

At this, Lysander snorted. "So you eat out every night? That's not healthy."

Estelle offered him a one shouldered shrug and began to rinse the carrots, the icy liquid running over her hands. "Not quite _out_ per se. I don't eat at home, though."

* * *

The stars clung high in the sky, the world below illuminated in the pale moonlight. Lysander moved quickly behind Estelle's chair and pulled it out for her before offering his arm and helping her to her feet. They had been talking and laughing for so long, neither had kept track of the time. Passing Estelle her coat, Lysander opened the door.

"It's dark," he said, glancing outside. "I'll take you home."

Quickly, Estelle held up her hands. "It's alright," she assured him. "I'll be fine! Promise."

It took a while to convince Lysander, but once she did, Estelle started towards the picket fence gate.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Lysander called as he watched her go. Estelle made a face, turning slowly and offering him a small smile.

"We'll see," she said and turned away.

Lysander watched Estelle's retreating back until the darkness engulfed her entirely before he sighed, moving back into the house. Collecting the dishes from the table, something caught Lysander's eye and he frowned, squatting down next to Estelle's chair. There, folded neatly despite its creased surface was Estelle's list. A quiet sigh escaped Lysanders lips as he picked it up, spinning the small, folded rectangle between his fingertips. Should he call Estelle? Let her know that it must have fallen from her pocket? He dismissed this idea quickly with a shake of his head. No, he'll be seeing her tomorrow, anyway. He can just return it then.

Tossing the list onto the dining table, Lysander moved into the kitchen and began to fill the sink before he shut off the faucet quickly and moved back to the table. Unfolding it carefully, Lysander smoothed the paper out with his fingertips and glanced down the list once more. He needed to know how much longer he had to spend with Estelle. How many more things they had left to do. He hoped that she would add more to the list; he hoped that they could do this forever.

Running his eyes down the list, Lysander froze, his breath catching in his throat. There, the very bottom objective had been crossed off - something that hadn't been there when he had looked at it earlier:

_Fall in love._


	3. Wilted

Uni procrastination, oh my.  
Just experimenting with imagery, metaphor and syntax.  
Sorry if it doesn't make sense. 

* * *

Lysander stood by the lake, his hands tucked behind his back neatly; gaze fixed on the ducks that frolicked and flapped about happily in the defrosting water. His grip tightened on the piece of paper he had rolled up and, allowing his shoulders to slump, Lysander looked away from the lake; a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

It wasn't like Estelle to be late. She was always exactly on time for their meet ups, if not being so eager she'd arrive before he. Something wasn't right. Lysander began to circle the lake at a slow pace, his mind clouded with not only thoughts, but a great deal of mostly horrifying scenarios to explain Estelle's absence.

Pausing briefly by a small patch of flowers, Lysander stooped down, plucking a dusty blue, dainty flower from the ground. The thin coating of fur on the stem ticked his fingertips as he twirled it in circles. It reminded him of Estelle. Simple, yet just so captivating.

Reaching the lone, dew covered bench, Lysander's brows furrowed and he sat down, his hand dipping into his pocket to retrieve his mobile phone. Running a thumb across the screen, Lysander scowled at the lack of alerts he had; one message from his brother and another from his friend, Castiel.

Lysander's thumb hovered over the screen for a brief moment before he opened up his message box, hoping that he had simply misread the meeting time that Estelle and he had decided on. No. Lysander's lips twisted together in a frown; he was exactly where he needed to be at the time they had promised. But why could Estelle be late?

Exiting out of his message box, Lysander's fingers seemed to work by themselves as he punched in her number, finally hesitating with thumb positioned just above the call button. Blinking down at his phone several times, a small smile crept onto Lysander's face. The chances of remembering any number aside from his own (although he was known to forget it on occasion) was certainly something the silver haired boy did not expect. But yet, he had Estelle's number memorised; encoded in his brain without him knowing, right down to the very last digit.

Drawing in a deep breath, Lysander shot one final glance around the deserted parkland before tapping the 'call' button. Raising the phone to his ear, he let out a quiet sigh of relief as he listened to it ring.

_'Hello?' _came the voice on the other line and Lysander found himself smiling at the cheerful voice.

"Elly, it's me. Where are you? Is everything alrigh-"

_'Just kidding~' _the voice continued. _'Unfortunately I'm unable to answer the phone right now. Please leave your message, name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible.' _

Estelle's voice disappeared and was replaced with a single, monotonous beep. Muttering in annoyance, Lysander hung up.

What could possibly be keeping her? Maybe she witnessed a car accident and stopped to help out? Lysander shook his head. That was a stupid idea. He remembered when Estelle told him the story of how she gave away her umbrella to a needy stranger the day she met him on the train; maybe this time, Estelle was helping another person out in much the same way. But that wouldn't prevent her from answering her phone. And the sky was crystal blue and cloudless. So, that wasn't likely, either.

Dragging his fingertips through his messy silver hair, Lysander sighed sadly. He wasn't sure why Estelle was ignoring his call or skipping out on their meeting. Their date. But, Lysander was absolutely sure of one thing; he was going to have to have a word with that girl about her misleading message bank.

It was late in the afternoon when Estelle had finally made it to the park. A part of her was still hoping to see Lysander waiting for her, but she knew that was just her selfish feelings. Some sort of inner yearning that he would. Pushing those feelings aside, she glanced around; as she had expected, Lysander was long gone.

She knew she couldn't expect him to wait for so long without her contacting him – or, at the least, apologising for being so late. Estelle's brow furrowed slightly. Even though she wasn't there when she had promised, she couldn't deny the pang of hurt that washed through her at the deserted park.

Tugging the beanie farther over her ears, Estelle started at a slow walk, her head tilted upwards at the darkening sky. She would have contacted him; she wanted to. But she had always been told to leave her phone behind when she visited _him. _He didn't want any interruptions. He was always like that, for as long as Estelle had known him. It was all business, all seriousness. He was the binary opposite of Lysander.

Continuing along the granite track that ran along the outskirts of the lake, Estelle slowed to a halt when she neared the lone bench on the far side, secluded and seldom visited. It was where she first waited for Lysander; her excitement and nerves had her stomach churning with butterflies long before she had left the house that day to meet up with him.

But this time, it was different. She knew Lysander was not waiting for her any longer. Instead of the excitement she once felt at the prospect of meeting him, the feelings were instead replaced with guilt. A sort of incomprehensible sadness that she had brought upon herself.

Something caught her eye. A diamond in the rough. Its powder blue petals stood out against the dull grey, faded wood of the bench. Estelle's lips tugged upwards into a small smile as she carefully picked up the wilted flower; it had been smothered by the original owner, and slowly dying.

Gently plucking the bud away from the stem, Estelle crossed the path once more towards the lake and knelt down at the edge; her hand, cupped, dipped into the icy water, causing goose bumps to immediately cover the surface of her arm.

The small flower floated away from Estelle's hand as she watched it; setting it free in the freezing lake. And even though the vastness of the lake, as dark as it was, tried to swallow the flower whole, it remained afloat, despite its odds; continuing on its journey until it could no longer withstand its fate.

Estelle watched as eventually, the flower began to sink into the murky depths of the lake. And even in the darkness of the icy water, the powder blue bud still stood out; a sole light in a dark place.


	4. Sublime

Lysander found himself smiling against his will as Estelle wandered around in the garden. He had –initially, at least- every intention to be angry with her for dropping all contact with him and breaking their promise to meet up. Of course, there was also the added issue of waiting outside in the cool air for well over four hours and developing a fever as a result, but he was certainly not about to let her know that he waited that long for her, let alone got sick from it.

For now, at least, seeing her was enough. And whilst he was happy to see her, prancing around the community garden, an overjoyed smile plastered on her face, Lysander was also saddened. Estelle moved quickly to his side, her small hands wrapping around his wrist; after one gentle tug, she lead him towards a large stone fountain, the centerpiece of the breathtaking gardens whose tall trees blocked out the cityscape around them and creating the illusion that they were amidst a tranquil oasis.

Estelle dipped the tips of her fingers into the crystal water of the fountain, home of two koi fish, binary opposite was the colour of their scales, who swam curiously around her hand. Tilting her head upwards, Estelle smiled, a hearty laugh escaping her lips. Reaching upwards with her free hand, Estelle tugged the white, wide-rimmed sunhat from her head, settling it down to rest on the fountains smooth stone ledge.

Immediately, Lysander looked away, his hands shaking. He couldn't stand the sight of her. He couldn't bare it any longer. It hurt him to see her so happy, all of the time. So happy despite knowing. Raising the sleeve of his jacket to his mouth, Lysander coughed.

"Estelle," he said, his voice hoarse as he fought against the lump in his throat. "Put your hat back on."

Confused, Estelle lifted her hand away from the water and turned in a half circle to face the silver haired boy.

"Why?" she challenged, a glint in her eye. "You don't like my new haircut?"

Raising her dry hand, she dragged her fingertips through the short, choppy blonde locks that came no farther than her ears. Her eyes met Lysander's and she waited silently for a reply. Lysander didn't like it. He hated it with every fiber of his body. But he also knew that Estelle could tell how he felt about it. He also knew why she kept it.

Lysander let out a long sigh. "No," he said. "I don't."

Sticking her tongue out, Estelle turned back to the koi fish, sweeping up the sunhat and dropping it onto her head in one swift motion.

"Lys?" she murmured after a few moments of silence.

"Mmm?"

"You can mark the Botanical Gardens off the list if you'd like."

Lysander fished the crumpled list from his pocket, smoothing it with his fingertips as he uncurled it. A pen slid out from inside the paper roll and Lysander uncapped it quickly, placing a thin, shaky line through the objective that had been scrawled down in their haste.

The list had been expanded; new objectives would be written as Estelle thought of them, and as a result, there was a great many more things Estelle wished to witness. Lysander's lips curled upwards into a sad smile as he glanced down the list at the two new additions; one in particular caught his eye.

_To be sung to.  
_

Lysander let out a sad sigh as he shook his head.

_Why, Elly?_

* * *

"Lys," Estelle called as she closed the front door behind her. "Are you ready? We've got lots to do today!"

Lysander didn't respond and a mischievous smile crept onto Estelle's face. Whenever she came over, he would usually hide with the idea of springing up behind her when she least expected it in hopes of scaring her. It worked. For the first two times, at least. Until it became a regular occurrence and Estelle grew to expect it.

Padding her way softly down the hallway, hands held out at the ready, Estelle glanced around, her keen eyes darting to every nook and cranny that Lysander could have concealed himself behind. Eventually arriving in the kitchen, a small frown played across her face; Lysander was leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, fingers on his temples. He looked up when Estelle cleared her throat, a soft smile playing across his face.

"You're here," he said, his fingers making quick work of the list that he had spread out atop the bench. "I was just," he slipped the list into his pocket and made his way around the side of the counter towards her, "seeing what objectives we could complete today."

Estelle's brows knitted together. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course," Lysander replied. "Should there be any reason for things to not be okay?"

Estelle shook her head, although she didn't believe him. "You look … Sad, Lys. You're paler than usual."

Lysander felt his chest tighten at her words; she was concerned with his health. _His. _And yet, he couldn't deny that her observations were not correct. His face was drained of colour; large, dark bags hung underneath mismatched eyes that had lost their sparkle. His lids were heavy and he struggled to keep them open

Lysander's lips twisted their way into a broad grin and he placed a hand on the girls shoulder. "I'm fine. Let's go."

* * *

"What's next on the agenda?" asked Lysander as the two exited a second hand bookshop. They had taken the oldest, most well-loved books and slipped dollar bills in between the pages. It was bound to be a surprise for whoever was to pick them up, and, Estelle had hoped, bring a smile to their face.

"It's still the same," Estelle replied, unable to contain the smile on her face. "To make people's day with the smallest of things!"

Lysander shook his head at the eager girl as he followed, a few steps behind her. "You've made my _year_ just by existing," he murmured quietly. "That has to count for something, right?"

Estelle glanced around in search of their next target before shooting a fleeting look over her shoulder at her friend.

"Did you say something, Lys?" she asked.

The silver haired boy shook his head slowly, his lips twisting into a small smile. "Nothing at all."

"Your hair has gotten shorter," Lysander noted as the two sat in the center of the outdoor shopping complex, cold drinks in hand; a large tree shielded them from the suns warm rays.

"It is?" Estelle asked jokingly. "I hadn't noticed."

Lysander's hands tightened on the bottle of water he held, the clear liquid splashing against the sides in protest as the plastic pressed inwards. A shrill noise pierced the air and he lifted his head slightly, shooting a glance towards Estelle who fished her phone from her pocket.

"Hello?" she asked into the receiver, plugging her other ear with a finger to try and eliminate the background noise from the people who bustled around them. "Yes, I'm doing well." A pause. "Today? I can't … No, I'm sorry … I'm with someone right now … I know, I know. Would it be okay if I come by tomorrow then? … Yes, okay. Thank you."

Lysander waited patiently until she hung up the phone before he spoke.

"That was _him _again, wasn't it?" he asked. Estelle confirmed his suspicions with a simple nod.

"It was."

Lysander reached out, placing a hand on Estelle's knee. "I'm coming with you, tomorrow. I'm not going to let you be alone with him. Not again."

A silence fell upon the two as they sat there, side by side as they continued to sip their drinks. Lysander finished his quickly before leaning backwards against the bench.

"Do you mind if we rest here for a little longer?" he asked, "I'm tired."

His head had begun to throb – they were out in the sun for far too long for his liking.

A playful grin crept upon Estelle's face. "Getting a bit out of shape, are we?" she teased. "I don't mind, take as long as you like. I'm content to just sit here if I'm with you."

At this, Lysander looked away. He couldn't take it anymore.

* * *

Lysander leaned against the wall as he watched the man sit with Estelle a short distance away, the two deep in conversation. On occasion, he would reach across the table and take Estelle's hands in his, turn them over in the palms of his hands and place them back down on the table once more.

Jaw clenched, Lysander moved to stand behind the blonde, draping his arms in front of her protectively as he watched the man.

"And you must be Lysander," he grinned toothily, "Estelle has told me all about you."

Instead of extending a hand in a friendly gesture, the man lifted his hand to his face, brushing away what could have been a strand of black hair, had it not been gelled backwards neatly. He did not introduce himself, instead, returned his attention to Estelle.

Lysander, too, made no move to greet the unfamiliar man, nor did he care for introductions of any sort – he was certain this man would only gloat about his status or profession. Or both. Instead, Lysander offered a curt nod in response and his grip on Estelle tightened.

"Elly, my dear Elly," the man began, "I must ask you – why must you insist on keeping your hair the way it is?"

Lysander's ears pricked at the question. He, too, was curious as to hear the answer, but this man had no right to ask. Half expecting her to be offended by the bluntness of the question, Lysander was surprised when she offered him a one shouldered shrug.

"You're my doctor," she said, "I know you're not stupid. You know that I have Leukemia; I know that I have it, too. And, as much as I try, I know that I can't change that fact. My hair is … "

Lysander's heart gave a lurch. She had already told him of her illness, but this … This was …

"-the last part of my former self that I can hold onto. I'm changing, I know. But my hair is the last part of my past that I … I don't want to let it go. I can't."

* * *

"Well, that went well, don't you think, Lys?" Estelle smiled as the two walked hand in hand through the moonlit city. It was empty now as the city slept, but it hadn't yet lost the magnificence that it held during the day. The tall buildings were illuminated by advertisements; the streets by rows of lamps that reflected the glistening light on the droplets of dew and moisture.

Lysander remained quiet, his grip on Estelle's hand tightening. Everything was going to be alright, he reassured himself. Estelle can get through this. He hadn't wanted to face the reality just yet; he didn't want to lose Estelle. But what if he … No.

His pace slowed and, with his free hand, Lysander dragged his fingers through his matted hair, his breathing deepened.

"Everything alright?" Estelle asked, shooting a worried look in his direction. Lysander shook his head.

"I'm alright," he replied. "I'm just exhausted, is all. It's been a long day."

At this, a small laugh escaped Estelle's lips. "You slept in until one-forty this afternoon. You're getting lazy, Lys!"

Offering the girl a small smile, Lysander allowed his shoulders to slump. "I had trouble sleeping last night, my head hurt."

"Well then, stop thinking so much!"

* * *

"Hey, Lys?" Estelle asked as he had walked her back to her hospital room; it had become somewhat of a permanent home for her these past few months, and she hated every minute of it.

Whilst she was allowed out during the day, as a sort of 'last wish' type of scheme, the nurses would poke and prod her all night, monitoring her breathing and blood pressure. Everything that could have been done during the day to ensure it was out of the way, Estelle pushed aside. She would gladly sacrifice a decent sleep for a chance of living life. For a chance of being with Lysander.

"Mm?" he breathed, tucking her into her bed. When she didn't speak, Lysander turned to leave, only to have his wrist seized gently by a tiny, cold hand.

"What were you reading yesterday? You know, in the kitchen?"

Lysander paused for a moment before a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Your list, of course."

"You lie," Estelle defended. "It was in my bag."

Gently prying Estelle's hand from his wrist, Lysander turned. "Since you looked to be enjoying your list so much, I thought I would make one, too."

Estelle's eyes lit up almost immediately. "And I can help you with your list too, right?"

Lysander shook his head slowly, and leaned forward, his lips brushing against Estelle's forehead.

"You already have," he breathed. "Now rest well."

A quiet hum escaped his lips as Estelle lay her head against the pillow before a soft, flowing tune escaped his lips. This was it. This was the last thing she had on her bucket list. A lullaby.

"It's beautiful," Estelle whispered, her eyes closed. "Thank you."

* * *

It was a long, cold walk home for Lysander as he passed through the sleeping city, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. His coughing had worsened at the exposure to the dropping climate but he didn't care.

The sharp edge of folded paper brushed against his skin and Lysander exhaled, pulling it from the pocket. Stopping under the pale light of the nearest lame, he unfolded it.

Neatly written in the center of the page were two tasks, or objectives as Estelle would call them. One had been marked off; ruled out elegantly as though it had been done so the moment it was written.

_Love. _

The one thing Lysander wanted, he had achieved. Under it, however, was something he both yearned for, but knew he would never complete. It would remain untouched for as long as he lived.

_Say goodbye._

Those two simple words were what he wanted to do, perhaps even more so than love. But he knew that, in his heart, he never could.


	5. Epilogue pt 1 - Lysander's Lullaby

The sky was dark, the grey clouds clung low to the sky. A slight breeze washed across the countryside, catching the discoloured leaves of autumn and carrying them off into the afternoon sky.

Quiet was the surrounding landscape; nobody spoke, in fact, seldom did they visit, although they had always promised to. I don't suppose one could blame them, though. It's not like their promises would be remembered, and, of course, the unchangeable past was always something that would, over time, be forgotten.

A variety of stones littered the surface of the area, breaking apart the earth in clusters each one of a different size and shape; tombstones, elegantly carved and highly decorated. Yet not one stone, as elegant as they were could convey the breathtaking beauty that its owner, in life, possessed. Not one stone could capture the personality lost, or the heartbreak felt by the loved ones left behind.

A sole figure walked through the graveyard, their head bowed low in respect for those who rested there; a bouquet of powder blue flowers gripped tightly in their hand. Pulling their jacket closer, the figure continued the walk up the gentle slope until what they were looking for came into view; their friend. Their love. Their only.

The breath caught in their throat as they looked upon the stone, eyes red from crying, yet unable to prevent tears from falling. They were helpless without the other; lost. A great piece of them was missing, one that was impossible to get back, not even with the passing of time.

The scent of freshly churned soil reached their nostrils as they knelt beside the grave, placing the bouquet of flowers by the headstone - a final reminder of the time they had shared together - before their body began to shake violently, and for ages, they remained, curled up, sobbing.

Long ago had the sun dipped behind the horizon, casting the world below into unavoidably dark, moonless night. But not once did the sobbing figure leave; instead, they remained put beside their loved one. One of the last times they could share together.

Lifting their head gently, they extended an arm; long fingers tracing over the name that had been carved into the stone. Allowing their shoulders to slump, they closed their eyes, a soft tune escaping their lips. It was one they knew all too well, the lyrics familiar - unforgettable. The lullaby that had been sung by the hospital bedside the last time they saw one another.

"_Don't hesitate another minute; please take away my heart. _

_Yes, the sharper the better - the night the moon has closed her eyes_."

Their heart was aching as they forced themselves to continue; the lyrics becoming off-key and irregular as they sobbed.

_"Baby don't cry, tonight, after the darkness passes,_

_Baby don't cry, tonight, it'll become as if it never happened._

_You're not the one to disappear into foam, something you never should've known._

_So baby don't cry, cry, my love will protect you."_

The final, shaky note escaped their lips and they rocked backwards, a gentle keening sound replacing the tune that they once held.

"Lysander," Estelle choked as she reached out to touch the headstone once more. "How long did you know about the tumour in your brain? Why didn't you tell anyone?"

She fell silent as she waited for the response that would never come; her bottom lip quivered.

"They told me I'd had a relapse just before I met you; they told me I only had a few weeks to live. But … I held on. I fought it - for you. Lysander …"

She paused, wiping the tears away roughly with the sleeve of her jacket. "I can't do this without you. I … _Why_?"

It all seemed to come together at that one moment. Lysander's fatigue; the oversleeping; getting exhausted carrying out the simplest of tasks; the headaches - he knew. He must have. But … He kept quiet. He was more concerned for Estelle's wellbeing.

Estelle sighed as she ran her fingers over her smooth head, the skin, exposed to the wind, was freezing. Shooting a quick glance upwards at the sky, alight with streaks of orange and purple, she got to her feet. Raising her hand to her lips, Estelle then placed it atop Lysander's headstone.

"I love you," she breathed and turned away. "Goodbye Lysander… Until we meet again."


	6. Epilogue pt 2 - 86400

With her head bowed low, Estelle walked. She didn't care how far she walked or where she ended up. She didn't care who she bumped into and what she passed. The last thing she ever said to Lysander was "thank you"; it wasn't a confession of her feelings. It wasn't a declaration of her love. It was a simple "thank you". And for what? He had sung her a song. One that hadn't left her mind since.

It wasn't as though she had planned the last thing she would say to him, although she had hoped it would be her to leave, in turn, Lysander remaining behind in order to carry out his life; to be happy; to find another love. But she …

She could never move on. She could never forget. And no amount of trying was going to make her.

Although, deep down, what hurt her most was not the fact that she did not get to say goodbye. Estelle felt guilty for Lysander's passing; he had kept his secret hidden from her – he had given her every ounce of support and care he could. And she was not by his side when he needed her the most.

It wasn't fair. But who was it not fair for? Estelle felt her heart sink farther than it already had at the thought – it wasn't fair for her. As much as she would have given anything to be able to help him as much as he had helped her … He had left – exactly how he wanted it.

And Estelle couldn't help thinking that by her being there during his final moments, no matter how much she wanted to tell him she loved him and that everything would be alright, it would make his passing difficult. Something she knew he did not want.

If Estelle had been there that night, by his side, he would not have wished to leave. It would have hurt him far more than it did.

Estelle glanced upwards at the dark sky; the rain matting her hair and obscuring her vision. Pushing her sopping fringe from her eyes, Estelle continued to walk – the small droplets of water ran down her face, and strangely enough, they tasted like salt.

The dark sky cracked open as a fork of lightning lit up the world for a brief moment before returning to the shadowed state it was previously. Estelle continued to walk, oblivious to the storm as people pushed past her in an attempt to escape the rain, umbrellas –sometimes upturned – clasped tightly in their hands.

What if she were to exchange places with Lysander? What would he feel had she of passed instead of him? Would he have moved on as she would have liked – live a happy life, fall in love once more? Or would he, too, never truly be able to move on?

* * *

Estelle arrived home early that evening to her old apartment – it had been so long since she had been allowed to leave the hospital room, and, it was exactly how she had left it. The small kitchen was coated in a thin layer of dust and held very little in it. The lounge, consisting of a table, a single armchair and a small television propped up by two bricks and a plank of wood was all that decorated the room.

Exploring the empty room with no more than a sweeping glance, Estelle headed to her room; a single bed was stripped of its sheets and rested neatly in one corner; a small plain wooden night stand stood next to it.

Above the bed, and probably the only thing that Estelle had liked about her home, was the large window that she would look out of every night as she lay in bed; watch the stars and wonder if there was anything beyond.

Moving to the small wardrobe that stood opposite the bed, she opened it, scowling at the cotton dresses and pastel blouses that hung neatly inside. Pulling a cotton dress from the hanger, Estelle held it up to her body and turned slightly, surveying herself in the mirror.

"Lysander would have liked this."

Allowing the dress to fall to the floor, Estelle turned away from her room with a sigh – this was her life outside of the hospital. And it was empty. Moving to the fridge, Estelle's brows knitted together. She couldn't remember the last time she had been in her apartment, and, judging by the layer of dust that coated every surface in the tiny kitchen, the apartment, too had seen nobody after her.

Although she wasn't exactly sure why, Estelle tugged the door of the fridge open and surveyed the empty shelves. She hadn't expected it to contain any food, but something compelled her to check, just in case.

Closing the door shut behind her, crossed the apartment in five steps and, after grabbing her soaking jacket from the coathook, left the apartment. She didn't bother locking the door as she made her way down the three flights of stairs and onto the street; she didn't know for how long she would be gone, or if she would come back at all. If someone were to take advantage of the fact that she had left her apartment unlocked, she would not be any worse off than she was now.

* * *

The storm had worsened during her time indoors and the rain fell heavily; her already soaking jacket absorbing the moisture and weighing her down. As she made her way down the streets, Estelle looked at her feet.

She arrived at the pebbled path that lead towards the lake and found herself heading involuntarily down it until the familiar sight came into view. Making her way slowly around the lake, Estelle slumped down on the park bench. Waiting.

Waiting for what, exactly, she did not know. But she remained there, nonetheless. For something to happen? Maybe. Although something deep within her heart told her that she had to wait.

The sky grew steadily darker still and, after what felt like hours of waiting for nothing in particular, Estelle pushed her freezing body to her feet. Long ago had she stopped feeling the icy rain against her skin. Instead, her entire body burned with a constant cold that seemed to eliminate every other sense.

With joints, stiff from sitting for so long, Estelle slowly made her way out of the parkland, back along the trail and out into the city that, despite the downpour, still seemed to buzz with life.

_"Why do you need to get it done so quickly? Take your time with it - you'll enjoy it more that way."_

_"I guess I just want to finish as much of the list as I can."_

Estelle snorted at the thought; all this time, he had been in perhaps a worse state than she. But despite that, he was willing to befriend a stranger. He was willing to help no matter what happened to him.

She looked down at her feet once more as she began the journey back through the city. Closing her eyes, she sighed. She felt as though she had no control over her mind or body anymore. It moved on its own. It would think on its own. And right now, her body seemed set on revisiting the places she spent with Lysander. It was set on conjuring up her fondest memories of him. And to make it stop was out of her control.

A loud ring of a horn and screams of onlookers snapped Estelle back to reality as a bright light flooded across her vision, blinding her. She did not know what was happening, nor could she see her surroundings any longer. Instead, she was surrounded by a spectrum of bright colours, indescribable in beauty.

As Estelle looked into the burning light, she lifted her hand. There, stood Lysander. His hands outstretched. Waiting.

"_I love you, Estelle," _he breathed.

Estelle smiled, unable to stop herself from crying.

"I love you too, Lys."

* * *

The light slowly began to fade; the spectrum of colours slowly dissolving into the landscape around her. Estelle's hands twitched as she felt the springy grass beneath her. Pushing herself upwards, Estelle took in her surroundings.

She was sitting in a beautiful meadow, clusters of soft blue flowers surrounded her. To the north was a weeping willow, a small bench sat underneath it, and to the east, if Estelle squinted, she could just make out a babbling river whose crystal clear water and rainbow pebble bed reflected the sun.

The sky, a vibrant shade of cornflower held no trace of clouds, yet with all of this sun, Estelle did not feel any warmth.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist, helping her gently to her feet; a face burying itself into the crook of her neck.

"Estelle," Lysander murmured, "I've been waiting for you."

The moment the sound of his voice reached Estelle's ears, she spun around in his arms, wrapping her own around his neck – and cried.

"Lysander," she managed to choke out. "I thought I'd lost you."

With an index finger, Lysander tilted Estelle's head upwards and brushed away her tears; the other arm tightening in a protective grip, as though he was scared she would leave. Moving his head forward, Lysander placed a gentle kiss on Estelle's forehead and the second his lips touched her skin, Estelle felt warm for the first time.

"Please don't ever leave," she murmured and Lysander shook his head.

"I never will."

* * *

Estelle rested her head on Lysander's shoulder as the two sat in comfortable silence on the small bench, enveloped by the branches of the weeping willow. One of Lysander's arms was around her waist, holding her to him, the other rested atop Estelle's.

Estelle was not sure how long they sat there – time seemed to stand still here. Tilting her head upwards she breathed in Lysander's scent.

"Is this … real?" she asked. Lysander broke out of his trance and glanced back down at her, a gentle smile playing across his face.

"It's as real as you wish it to be, Elly."

Placing a gentle kiss on Lysander's lips, Estelle rested her head on his shoulder once more.

"It is real. And I'm right where I want to be."

* * *

Lysander and Estelle walked, side by side, hand in hand through the beautiful meadow. Following the bank of the crystal clear river, they headed up the side of a small hillock before Lysander paused. Letting go of her hand, he crouched by the riverbed, his hand dipping into the icy waters before he withdrew it shortly after.

Moving back to Estelle's side, he took up her hand, pressing something cold and smooth into it. Confused, Estelle uncurled her hand; a beautiful pebble of marbled blue rested in her palm. It was no bigger than a pocket watch and was shaped in a heart.

"Please cherish it," Lysander said as he took up her hand in his once more. And together, they made their way over the grassy hillock.

* * *

"Just over here," Lysander smiled, leading Estelle out of the clearing.

Surrounding the pair was a wall of trees; trunks so close together that it was impossible to squeeze through. The only way past was an uprooted tree that rested on its side; it wasn't tremendously high and Lysander scaled it with ease.

Holding out his hand, he offered Estelle a smile.

"We're almost there, love," he said. "I'll help you."

Balancing on her toes, Estelle grinned. "I can do this," she said.

Placing one foot at the bottom of the fallen tree, she made a grab for a branch. And then, slid back down again. A small, embarrassed laugh escaped her lips as she lifted her gaze to meet Lysander's once more.

"So, it wasn't as easy as I thought," she said. "But I've got this."

Raising her foot once more, she placed it on the base of the rough bark, scrambling to reach a nearby branch. As she stationed herself on it, she reached for the next one, her balance faltering and she fell to the ground with a light thud.

Again and again she tried to climb over, tears of frustration welling in her eyes. Lysander. He was waiting for her. She had to do this. Feeling a gentle tug in her heart, Estelle looked up.

From his position atop the fallen tree, Lysander offered her his hand once more.

"Take it," he said. "Please."

This time, Estelle nodded and made to take hold of his hand. Each time she would wrap her fingers around his wrist, she would find her hand empty; his wrist replaced with nothingness.

The tears of frustration turned to tears of panic as she looked around frantically – there had to be a way to get over. She just had to.

"Lysander," she managed to call, but Lysander shook his head, a sad smile curling the corners of his lips upwards.

"Estelle," he murmured. "Don't be sad. We can be together some day, but … It's just not your time now."

Estelle's eyes widened and she made to grab at Lysander's hands once more.

"Please," she cried. "I can't leave you!"

Lysander got to his feet, tears staining his cheeks.

"_I'm sorry_ … "

* * *

Something sharp pricked Estelle's skin and she groaned, opening her eyes. Her vision was blurry; her surrounding spun. Bright lights shone on her from every angle and her eyes stung. Pushing herself into a sitting position, she could hear the muffled sounds of people yelling.

People were yelling her name.

And then, she was pushed back down once more.

"Estelle," a doctor said, his voice low. "We thought … We thought we had lost you!"

The surroundings began to stop spinning and Estelle could see where she was now; inside an operating room, her body covered by a blue, plastic fabric. Every inch of her ached, throbbed with pain. She was alive.

A choking cough escaped her throat, followed soon after by a long, low keening sound. Tears fell uncontrollably from Estelle's eyes and her body began to shake.

She was alive. She was exactly where she did not want to be.

Raising her bruised hand to her face to wipe away her tears, she noticed something for the first time.  
Turning her hand over, she gently opened her fingers. There, in the palm of her hand sat a stone, no bigger than a small pocket watch; marble blue in colour and shaped like a heart.


End file.
